


Strip The Flesh And Unleash The Beast

by Rogue21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action, Battle of the Bastards, F/M, Older Sansa, References to Season 5 and 6, Romance, Sexual Content, Takes place at the beginning of season 5, The Eyrie, Winterfell, the wall - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7369147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue21/pseuds/Rogue21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petyr Baelish had it all planned out, sell Sansa Stark to the Bolton’s and have her marry Ramsay, and then betray the Bolton’s with the Knights of the Vale, rescue Sansa and reunite her with her brother at the Wall. What Littlefinger didn’t expect was Sansa’s older sister Rhaenys Stark arriving at the Eyrie after spending eight years with the Dancing Masters in Braavos, now Littlefinger has a new Stark to sell to Ramsay, meaning Sansa is now Petyr’s to marry, but Rhaenys has plans of her own and it involves stripping the Flayed Man down and turning him into a Wolf, for when Ned sent his eldest daughter to the Dancing Masters, he didn’t know what she would become.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Return Of The Second-Born Stark

It was the morning after Lady Lysa Arryn’s death and the Eyrie was in mourning. Petyr Baelish walked through the great hall and smirked at the Moon Door he felt no remorse over pushing Lysa through it and watching her fall to the rocks below, after all it was always Catelyn he loved and not Lysa. And in Sansa he saw Catelyn, oh sweet Sansa, the kiss with her was enough to hold him until his plan succeeded. He just hoped Ramsay Bolton would not treat Sansa with cruelty. As he walked around the main hall of the Eyrie a guard approached him.

“Lord Baelish, there is a woman at the gates, demanding entrance,” he said to Petyr.

“Who is this woman?” he enquired.

“She claims to be Lady Rhaenys Stark, the second-born of Ned and Catelyn Stark,” the guard informed him. Petyr’s eyes lightened at the information. Rhaenys had returned, the last time he had met Rhaenys she was being shipped off to Braavos at the age of twelve to study with the Dancing Masters. That had been eight years ago, he wondered if she still had vibrant red hair like her mother. Catelyn chose the name Rhaenys, there had been a Targaryen with the name several decades before and she was a very gifted dancer who liked to travel the North and frequently visited Winterfell. Petyr went to the gates of the Eyrie and there she was standing tall with two silver swords on her back, Rhaenys Stark, Catelyn’s eldest daughter.

“Rhaenys,” he breathed enamoured by her beauty, but no it was Sansa he desired.

“Petyr,” she said her blue eyes lighting up at the sight of him and running to embrace him. “I haven’t seen you in eight years, when I finally reached Westeros I tried to go back to Winterfell but Bolton soldiers forbade me from going near the castle so I came here after hearing word that you married Aunt Lysa and then this morning hearing of her death…what happened Petyr, everything’s changed so much?”

“So much my dear, your parents, your brother Robb…did the news not reach you in Braavos?” Petyr asked her. Rhaenys bowed her head and shook her head.

“Not until I got to the boat, no one knew how to reach me in Braavos,” she replied. Rhaenys didn’t heard of the Red Wedding and her father’s death until she had decided to return to Westeros, when she got to the boat and told the Captain her name, he gave her his condolences and when she asked why, it all became clear. Her father beheaded by order of King Joffrey, and her mother and brother murdered by the Bolton’s and the Frey’s at the Red Wedding. Petyr gently touched Rhaenys’ cheek and gently caressed her with his thumb.

“You are here now my dear, the eldest surviving Stark, come let me tell you everything that has happened in recent weeks,” Petyr said guiding her inside. They returned to the main hall where Sansa now was, dressed in a black garment she had made herself during her time here, with a cloak with a Wolf crest on it. She saw Rhaenys and blinked in surprise that her sister was there.

“Rhae?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Sansa!” Rhaenys cried running to her little sister. She pulled her into a tight hug, the first sibling she had met since she arrived back in Westeros.

“I thought you were still in Braavos,” Sansa said to her.

“I had to come back, I was no longer needed in Braavos my guild ma-…my Dance Master told me it was time to return home,” Rhaenys said, she winced a little in slight pain but brushed it off because nothing could ruin her being reunited with her little sister.

“Two of the three Stark sisters have returned and now we have a way back to Winterfell,” Petyr said. Rhaenys stopped hugging Sansa and turned to Petyr.

“We do?” she asked curiously. Petyr nodded and walked towards the table at the end of the room where there was a blank parchment, ink and quill.

“Yes, Lord Roose Bolton and his wife Lady Walda Frey own Winterfell, Roose has legitimised his bastard son Ramsay, Ramsay is our way forward into retaking Winterfell,” Petyr said.

“But how is Ramsay our way in?” Sansa asked him, she put her trust in Petyr, he had brought her this far already since King’s Landing. Petyr dipped his quill into the ink and slowly wrote ‘Lord Bolton’.

“I have learned that Walda Frey is with child, should it turn out to be a boy Ramsay will not be the heir to Winterfell, he is after all a bastard, he may return to being Ramsay Snow,” Petyr informed them. Rhaenys blinked in curiosity, Ramsay Snow that sounded familiar to her.

“Ramsay…wait…before father sent me to Braavos I met a boy named Ramsay Snow when I ran away to the Dreadfort, we met in the forest and he got me through to the road leading to the Dreadfort and said ‘tell my father I said hello’ I thought maybe his father was a guard or something,” Rhaenys said. It was a long time ago but it was always a clear memory for her, too clear on some nights, the only memory that made her miss home.

“Why did you run away to the Dreadfort?” Sansa asked. Rhaenys was sent away just after Sansa turned ten years old.

“I was very against the idea of going to Braavos and decided to go to the Dreadfort because I had the bright idea of thinking marrying Domeric would stop father somehow, apparently that wouldn’t hold up as a reason, but back to the question, how are we going to get into Winterfell through Ramsay?” Rhaenys said as she leaned over Petyr’s shoulder to watch him write.

“We will get in through marriage, if Ramsay marries a Stark, he will be able to keep his claim on Winterfell, especially if he can sire an heir himself,” Petyr explained. “Sansa could ideally marry Ramsay but she is already married to Tyrion Lannister, however the true nature of the marriage is unknown to the Bolton’s as far as they know Sansa and Tyrion consummated their marriage and he fled King’s Landing before his execution for the murder of Joffrey, but you my dear…you might be the Stark we need.”

“My marriage to Tyrion was good for something then,” Sansa said with dry sarcasm. She wasn’t happy about being married to Tyrion but it was better than probably marrying Ramsay.

“You got married?” Rhaenys asked Sansa.

“Against my will I should add, Tyrion and I didn’t want to marry but we created a charade, pretended our marriage was legitimate and consummated, I do wonder where he is though,” Sansa said. Tyrion was kind to her, and if he had fled Westeros she wondered if she would see him again and if their marriage would still be legitimate.

“Okay, so I return to Winterfell with a proposition of marriage as the eldest Stark and therefore rightful heir to Winterfell, do you think Roose will go for it, I don’t think he even remembers me?” Rhaenys inquired.

“Oh he should, now you might not be able to manipulate Roose into giving up Winterfell but you can tempt Ramsay, if he hasn’t seen you in eight years, he doesn’t know the woman you have become,” Petyr said as he continued to write. Rhaenys turned to Sansa with a smile.

“He doesn’t know how I play the Game,” she said. Petyr stopped writing, and placed his quill down, Rhaenys smirked and walked away to start pacing the hall. “When father sent me to Braavos, I was trained by two of the finest Masters who were experts in the Game, I might have been learning how to use swords but I learned how to trick my enemies with words, use a person for my own gain…and now I know why you want a Stark in Winterfell.” Petyr held his breath for a moment, had she already figured him out, figured out his endgame.

“And what reason is that dear?” he asked.

“You need the Bolton’s dead, you’ll send a Stark into Winterfell, wait for Roose to be in a position of weakness and then siege the castle under House Arryn with the Knights of the Vale, with Winterfell in your hands you can rally all the other houses behind us and finish the war that began with our father’s death,” Rhaenys said. Petyr’s concerned look turn into a satisfying smile, it wasn’t his complete plan but she had read his mind well enough to know his plan for the North.

“You catch on quick dear,” he said and went back to writing. Sansa was pleased the plan didn’t involve her but she was still concerned for her sister.

“Do you know what Ramsay has become, he flays people alive, he cut off Theon’s…I’ve heard that he broke Theon down and made him inhuman, are you sure this is a good thing for you to do so soon after returning?” she asked her. Rhaenys nodded and brought her right hand to her left shoulder.

“I know Sansa, but I don’t have to worry about that, I’ve met men worse than Ramsay Bolton,” she said with a melancholy tone. Sansa bit her lip and turned to Petyr, in this light as he wrote he seemed handsome to her.

“So Lord Baelish, what is your plan?” she asked him, if he wasn’t sending her to the Bolton’s what then would he be doing for her?

“We will set forth for Winterfell with the news that Rhaenys has returned and wishes to discuss an alliance of marriage with Ramsay, she is very much the perfect candidate, has not been witness to the violence that has befallen your family, close to his age and above all, she will learn everything about Ramsay from us, I know what he is capable of, we both do, Sansa you and I will set forth with the Knights of the Vale to Runestone where Robin will be tutored in combat under the guidance of Lord Royce, and then when the Bolton’s attack Stannis and his army we ride for the Wall to retrieve Jon and begin the plan to siege back Winterfell,” Petyr said to them.

“Jon’s at the Wall?” Rhaenys asked startled.

“Yes, as Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, an honourable title for a bastard, but we need him to help take back Winterfell,” Petyr said. Rhaenys and Sansa looked at each other with concern, eight years and she didn’t know if she could trust Petyr, but the look in Sansa’s eyes told her that perhaps she should.

“Alright Lord Baelish, I will return to Winterfell under the guise of wanting to marry Ramsay Bolton, I will see what I can do to make Roose give up Winterfell, my Dance Master Emilio had a saying ‘make your dancing partner fall and all his secrets will spill from his lips’,” she said with a smile. Petyr smiled at her and sealed the finished letter with the Baelish crest. He stood up, kissed Rhaenys on the forehead and then left a kiss on Sansa’s lips before leaving the two of them. Rhaenys looked at her sister and the way she stared at Petyr, what did Petyr do to make Sansa trust him.


	2. Snowfall On Red Scars

Ramsay was lying in his bath, eyes closed as he lay in peace and quiet, content breathing as warmth spread through his body. He had returned from a good hunt and wanted some time to himself to reflect. He was happy, Roose had told him of the Raven that arrived from Lord Baelish telling him that the second-born Stark, Rhaenys, had returned from Braavos several days ago and she would be arriving today. Ramsay remembered Rhaenys quite well, he was fifteen at the time, figuring out ways to get into the Dreadfort and confront his father, and escape the abuse of his mother, when he met an angry pre-teen in the forest demanding to know where the route to the Dreadfort was. The Wolf crest on her coat at the time told him she was a Stark, but he didn’t know why she was seeking the Dreadfort, nor did he ask. He knew the way and showed her the road and that was the last he saw of her. He wondered what she would look like now. Would her hair still be that dark brown with strands of bright red, her eyes that same blue with brown flecks? Would she be taller, would her body have smooth curves that he could run his hand down with ease? Eight years was a long time to be gone, when he went to Winterfell to sell mill grain to the cook he asked where Rhaenys was gone and the cook told him that Eddard Stark had shipped her off to Braavos. There was a knock on the door and he sighed heavily.

“What!” he asked with a sharp tone in his voice.

“It’s Reek,” a voice from the other side said meekly. Ramsay sighed again and got out of the bath.

“Come in Reek,” he said as he walked to the window, water dripping from him all over the floor. Reek wandered in slowly, trying to avert his eyes as Ramsay turned around. Ramsay standing there, naked, made him feel inadequate, that he now envied the man who cut his cock off sickened him. Ramsay glanced at Reek who cowered his eyes to the floor. He wouldn’t even look at his face.

“It’s a cock Reek, just because you don’t have one doesn’t mean you have to cower at mine, now what did you want,” Ramsay said as he picked up his towel from the floor to dry himself off.

“Lord Baelish is here with the Stark girls, your father wants you to meet them,” Reek informed him. Ramsay ignored him and slipped into his trousers and kicked his shirt away from him. It was covered in blood from the hunt.

“My clothes are dirty Reek, send for them to be washed and I want the blood out this time, fucking servants don’t know how to wash blood out of linen,” he said walking out of the room. Reek didn’t question his reason for wearing only the trousers, no shoes and no shirt, it was getting colder now and he would certainly be cold if he went outside like that. A servant walked up to Reek and he ordered them to clean Ramsay’s hunting clothes, the one thing that made Reek feel a little more worthy was that Ramsay gave him the privilege to order the servants around.

 

Outside in the Winterfell courtyard Rhaenys, Petyr, and Sansa stood with Roose and Walda waiting for Ramsay to arrive. Roose looked at Rhaenys, oh he remembered her all right.

“The last time I saw you Rhaenys Stark, you asked to marry Domeric to get out of going to Braavos, is that why you returned, to marry my bastard and stay in Westeros permanently?” Roose asked in a mocking tone. Rhaenys chuckled at the fact that he remembered.

“You’re still funny Roose, I came back because I was no longer needed in Braavos, my time was done and they said I could go back home, I just wish someone had told me that my home included you,” Rhaenys said. Sansa hid a smirk, she still had her sharp tongue and attitude, which was what got her sent to Braavos in the first place. Roose turned to see Ramsay walking into the courtyard, barefoot and no shirt, just those hunting trousers of his, was he trying to impress Rhaenys before meeting her or was he just stupid walking around half naked in the cold?

“You finally arrive and you’re not even dressed for the occasion, you look like you got a job in a whorehouse,” Roose commented.

“I was relaxing in my bath when you summoned Reek to fetch me, at least in a whorehouse they value privacy,” Ramsay retorted. Rhaenys stared at Ramsay with a surprised look, her eyes travelled up and down his body, he was nothing like the men in the tavern described him, he was lean, had noticeable muscles in his arms and on his stomach, his eyes were pale blue, his mouth was curved into a smirk and she could definitely see something through those trousers he was wearing.

“Oh my,” she breathed. Sansa rolled her eyes at her sister, but she’d a hypocrite for judging her. Ramsay looked at Rhaenys noticing her distracted gaze and bit his lip slightly, she’s gorgeous, he thought. She was like what he imagined but even prettier than he expected.

“You must be Rhaenys Stark, it is nice to meet you again,” he said.

“It’s been eight years I’m surprised you remember me,” Rhaenys said.

“I never forget a Stark,” was all Ramsay said. Petyr and Sansa exchanged glances, an attraction had already set in; Petyr’s plan was going better than expected.

“Well we thank you for your hospitality Lord Bolton but Lady Sansa and I must depart for Runestone immediately, as Lord Robin’s ward, I must see how he is doing,” he said knowing it was time to go.

“Of course Lord Baelish, Lady Sansa, we hope to see you again in Winterfell soon,” Roose replied bowing towards them and departing with Walda. Sansa gave Rhaenys a hug and whispered to her.

“If he hurts you, you run immediately.” She let go of her sister and smiled. “I’ll see you soon Rhaenys,” she said and followed Petyr back to the horses to depart Winterfell. Rhaenys looked at Ramsay who had been waiting patiently for her attention to turn back to him. For someone who was apparently an awful bastard, he was extremely attractive.

“So…you got legitimised, how did that happen?” Rhaenys asked with intrigue.

“It involves Domeric dying and me being the only heir left,” Ramsay replied. Rhaenys chuckled.

“I heard about Domeric, shame, I was going to marry him when I was twelve, oh well, worse things have happened,” she replied, whenever Roose and Domeric came to Winterfell Domeric would always sit and read, Rhaenys would have to ask about the book just to have a conversation with him, and even when they did talk he was never really bothered about it. Boring, was the word Robb used to describe Domeric.

“Let me show you to your room, father took the liberty of preparing the Lord’s room for you when he heard the news,” Ramsay said. Rhaenys smiled and followed him into Winterfell castle, it felt good to be back, although she desperately needed a bath, she didn’t have time get one before they left the Eyrie for Winterfell and the last one she had was the morning she left Braavos.

 

Ramsay escorted Rhaenys to her new room, the room her parents shared. As he opened the door for her, she got a wave of childhood memories washing over her as she entered. Waking up at dawn with Robb to wish Ned and Catelyn good morning, reading with Catelyn in the evenings before Old Nan would carry her back to her room, she got to sleep in the bed one time when she fell sick and Catelyn wanted to stay with her at all times. She missed her mother so much, she’d never know all her adventures she had in Westeros, nor would she know the pain she went through.

“Are you alright?” Ramsay asked curiously, noticing that Rhaenys was just standing staring at the bed. She blinked the memories away and nodded.

“Yes…although I could do with a bath, I haven’t had one in a few days I must look disgusting to you,” she said remembering where she was.

“I think you look beau-,” he began reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t!” she cried flinching away from him. This surprised him, one moment she was smiling at him with a hungry look and now she was cowering away from him, scared.

“I am not going to hurt you,” he tried to reassure her, perhaps Petyr and Sansa had filled her head with fears of him beating her. Rhaenys sighed and relaxed a little.

“It’s not that, it’s just…,” she trailed off wondering if she should explain it to him. “I just…there’s something on my back…I don’t know if I should show you,” she said. Now Ramsay was even more curious, what could she be hiding from him, an ugly scar, a stupid tattoo done by a Braavosi whore, what?

“What’s on your back?” he asked her. Rhaenys sighed and gestured for him to shut the door. He did so and she turned away from him and slowly began to remove her jacket and blouse. She dropped them to the floor and Ramsay saw what she was scared to show him. A large cross cut out on her skin, heavily scarred, she had been flayed, flayed and left with a Bolton cross. While Ramsay enjoyed flaying his victims, seeing her cross startled him and almost made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Who did this to you?” he asked walking to her and examining her skin. Pale white skin with a gross and ugly red scar that went from her shoulders and ended at her hips. This wasn’t the work of Bolton’s it was too messy, too heavy, not finely cut, it was like someone had dug the knife in to tear her skin off and not softly peel it like he would.

“I wasn’t just a student in Braavos, after two years of training I was recruited into the House of the Red Dawn, an assassin’s guild, I was very good at what I did, and I had a lover at the time, a man who worked in the whorehouse, his name was Dorian, oh the things he could do for a woman,” she began as she remembered his face. She sat down on the bed not caring to put her blouse back on, she had exposed her deepest shame to him there was no point in hiding it whilst she told this story.


	3. The House Of The Red Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaenys's POV recounting Braavos.

_I worked at the House of the Red Dawn for six years, being hired by peasants and nobles to kill their enemies and I was good at what I did, I never left blood, I never left a mark. I was in and out like a ghost. After every kill I would collect my bounty and go down to a brothel down in the main square where a lot of soldiers and free traders liked to visit. And in this brothel you could have anyone you wanted, a man, a woman, both at once if you wanted. There was always one man I went to, Dorian Arden, he was twenty-five and had worked there for five years paying off debts to the men who helped free him from Yunkai, where he had been a slave. Dorian liked me a lot, I always paid him well and he always gave me a good time._

_One evening I was hired to kill a Yunkai Slave Master at a party, I made my way in as a dancer thanks to my training and entertained the Slave Master as a way to find out a little more about him, at one point in the night he disappeared and I set off to find him, the party was crowded so I asked around for him and I was told he went upstairs with a hired whore. So I went up the stairs and checked the rooms, there was a lot of people fucking each other at that party, orgies, and threesomes, the High Sparrow would have fainted at all the sin being dealt. I had a connection in the form of one of the Faceless Men, he pointed me to a room and I went in and…that was when I saw the Slave Master slitting Dorian’s throat in front of me. It turns out that he was the Slave Master who owned Dorian and had tracked him down to kill him himself. I lost myself in that moment then, I had trained for six years to do a job right and never let who I was compromise a contract but after watching a man I fucked almost every night for two years get killed right in front of me, I lost it. I ran in screaming and I just slaughtered him, I stabbed him in the throat, in the chest I ripped his chest open and left him an unrecognisable mush of blood and flesh. I left a mess and I just ran…and that was when I got caught by his two henchmen who had cornered me in an alleyway._

_They knew I had been hired to kill their master although who told them I don’t know, but after they captured me, they brought me to a wine cellar, and strapped me to a cross they had found. An old still intact one that had made its way to Braavos as part of a collection of old torture devices. The two thugs didn’t know what to do with me, they could have raped me but that would have been too easy for them, instead one of them suggested that they punish me ‘as if I was one of their slaves’ and flay me for my crime of killing a Slave Master._

_And that’s what they did, they tore of my shirt, they exposed my back whilst I was strapped down and they carved a cross into my back, nice and large so everyone would know I was a symbol of what happens when you kill a Yunkai Slaver._

_I cannot begin to describe the pain of being flayed alive, it’s not just the knife slicing into your skin and having that skin slowly peeled away from you leaving you exposed and stinging viciously. I felt like I was burning, I wanted to die, I was screaming, crying hot tears that couldn’t save me, I was helpless in that moment as I felt my body get tortured._

_When it was over, they left me in that wine cellar, left me crying, bleeding, flayed upon that cross. I thought I was dead for sure, but I was saved, my friend in the Faceless Men found me and took me straight back to the House of the Red Dawn and told them that now the Faceless God needed two new faces ‘for the Red Dawn’ he said before he left to do his duty._

_A Maester told me that they had cut too deep for my back to go back to normal, no I was left with this giant cross on my back, a symbol of my own mistake in letting my love for a man I should never have cared about get the better of me. The guild master told me that I was a good assassin but I had stayed too long in Braavos and that now was the time to go back home, but I couldn’t go until the Maester knew if I would survive the boat journey._

_The worst part about being flayed is not losing your skin, it’s losing who you were. Those men killed Rhaenys the Red Dawn Assassin, and left lying in her own blood Rhaenys Stark, a weak little girl. The morning I left for Westeros I heard everything, mother and father being killed, Robb being murdered at the Red Wedding, Joffrey being poisoned by Tyrion Lannister and my own sister, everything had changed after that party and now that I’m home, I don’t think anything will ever be the same again, not after what I’ve been through._


	4. We’re Both Terrible People

Once her story was done, Rhaenys put her blouse back on to hide the scar away. Ramsay was sitting beside her in complete silence, listening to her story, it shocked him, scared him, made him angry, made him want to flay the men who hurt her. He was unsure why he was feeling this way, flaying never bothered him, he enjoyed flaying those who deserved it, but maybe it was because she didn’t deserve it that angered him.

“What happened to those men who flayed you?” Ramsay asked her. Rhaenys was silent for a moment but then smiled.

“The Faceless God got two new faces for his collection, now about that bath,” she replied changing the subject. She didn’t want to dwell on the scar for too long.

“Yes, I shall fetch Reek and order him to get hot water, and something for that scar, I know how to treat those, poor Reek’s suffered a flailing or two in his life,” Ramsay said standing up to go and find Theon. Did she remember Theon?

“Okay…you don’t find it undesirable do you, my scar?” she asked him. Ramsay shook his head.

“No, if anything…it adds character,” was all he said and went to find Reek. Rhaenys watched him leave, feeling relived that she had told him about the scar, best let him know early that she had this scar than having him find out on their wedding night. Their wedding, they hadn’t discussed it, Roose would probably be arranging everything and would tell them what to expect at dinner. She lay back on the bed and winced, it still hurt to lie on her back, so she sat back up to remove her boots.

 

Ramsay returned with Reek, Reek was quiet and unsure if he recognised her, if Theon recognised her. Rhaenys gasped at Reek’s appearance.

“Theon, fucking hell what happened to you?” she cried at his appearance.

“My name is Reek my lady,” Reek replied bowing his head in shame that she recognised him, he’d would have rather she forgot.

“Reek, we need hot water, fetch some for Lady Rhaenys so she can bathe, she had a long trip, also find something to treat scars, and fetch one of the other servants,” Ramsay said in a kind but extremely condescending tone. Reek nodded and left to fetch water for the bath. Rhaenys could scarcely believe it, that was Theon?

“What did you do to him, he looks like puppy that got caught in the mill wheel,” she said. She knew it was Ramsay’s handiwork, Reek could scare look at Ramsay without fear.

“He did bad things and had to be punished, I punish people who do bad things and disappoint me,” Ramsay told her in a straight forward notion. No dodging this question. Rhaenys laughed and stood up.

“And I get paid to kill people, so we’re both terrible people, I once ripped out a man’s tongue and forced him to swallow it, being an assassin is not just a case of killing someone, they like you to be creative a lot of the time,” Rhaenys told him as she picked up her swords and placed them on the bed, she would need to re-sharpen them soon, the silver was starting to dull.

“I cut Theon’s cock off and sent it to his father,” Ramsay told her. Rhaenys laughed, reminded of a contract she had when she was in Meereen.

“I did the same thing in Meereen, this one Slave Master was stealing the female slaves of another Master and was brutally abusing them because they didn’t like each other, so the other Master hired me to cut off the cock of his rival and let it serve as a warning to the other Masters to stay away from his slaves, I got paid well for the job even if it was blood money, of course this was before Queen Daenerys freed the city,” she told him. Ramsay blinked in surprise, for an assassin she was extremely happy about it.

“I thought the Starks were loyal and honourable people, you seem nothing like your sister or your brother,” he told her. Rhaenys scoffed at his comment, she was still a Stark regardless of what she did.

“The difference between us Ramsay Bolton, is I got paid to be a terrible person, I’m still loyal to the Wolf and the Red Dawn valued honour in their kills, we’re tools not monsters,” she pointed out. Ramsay had no counterpoint to her, she was still a Stark and in any case the real murderers were the ones who hired her to kill people. It was quite attractive really. Reek returned with Myranda and they began to fill the bath with hot water for Rhaenys.

“Well I have to go speak with my father, enjoy your bath Lady Rhaenys,” Ramsay said kissing her hand and then leaving. Reek stopped filling up the bath, perhaps he should leave too.

“Do you want me to leave my lady?” he asked her nervously. She shook her head.

“No The-…Reek, I need you to clean my scar, the Maester did a fine work in Braavos but I am still afraid it’ll get infected due to how deep it is,” she said taking off her clothes and stepping in, Myranda began to wash Rhaenys whilst Reek cleaned her scar, he was surprised by the size of it, and that she had been flayed herself. He carefully tried to clean it but the occasional flinch from Rhaenys showed that the flayed skin was still quite fresh for her. Reek’s own wounds had healed well, he had noticeable scars but Ramsay never cut deep. He placed the cloth down on her right shoulder and she flinched again.

“Sorry, damn thing still stings,” Rhaenys muttered as Myranda scrubbed her arm.

“Don’t worry about it, Reek’s scars are uglier, who did yours?” Myranda said as she wringed out the cloth.

“Two henchmen who worked for a Yunkai Slave Master that I killed, but he killed my favourite male whore so it was only fair that the Master die as requested,” Rhaenys replied.

“A shame,” was all Myranda said, she didn’t care for this Wolf’s sob story. Rhaenys chuckled and leaned forward so Reek could wash her lower back.

“Not really, it just means that Ramsay will have to look at my face how does it look, Reek?” she asked Reek.

“It looks fine my lady, no infection, but as requested by Lord Ramsay I have something to treat it,” he replied wringing out the cloth. Rhaenys stood up and got out of the bath and began to dry herself with a clean cloth towel.

“You can go Myranda, thank you,” Rhaenys said with a smile. Myranda curtseyed although the look on her face was one filled with false pleasantries and left. Rhaenys turned to Reek who avoided looking at her body.

“What would you like me to do?” he asked her slightly dumbfounded at what to do.

“You could apply that salve to my scar,” she said slipping into some clean hunting trousers that she had brought with her. Reek nodded and picked up the bowl of white salve.

“Of course my lady, Lord Ramsay used this to treat my wounds so it should do,” Reek said. Rhaenys pulled her hair over her should so Reek could do as instructed. For a man who seemed more terrified of living more than anything he seemed alright with her around, perhaps an unfamiliar face from his past was comforting. The salve was soothing against her scar, refreshing, the salt solution that the Braavosi Maester used was itchy, but it healed the wound up, even if it still stung. She found a dark black blouse amongst the clothes she had brought and found it still had her Wolf pin on.

“I thought I lost this,” she muttered as Reek finished applying the salve. She put the blouse on and it seemed to stick to her back from the salve. She fixed the pin and smiled at it. Reek stood there waiting for his next order from her.

“What now my lady?” he asked. Rhaenys paused and then picked up her swords.

“Just clean up in here, are the training dummies still in the courtyard?” she asked as she put her sword holsters on her back.

“Yes my lady,” Reek said with a small bow. Rhaenys smiled and placed her hand on Reek’s shoulder.

“Thank you…Theon,” she said and then left the room. Perhaps Reek in this condition would be a benefit to her plan of taking back Winterfell from Roose.


	5. A New Ally

Outside in the courtyard Ramsay and Roose were taking a walk through the courtyard discussing the marriage alliance. Roose wasn’t so sure about the idea, Rhaenys just suddenly returning after eight years and offering to marry Ramsay, even if Petyr Baelish was the one making the negotiation for it. Ramsay wasn’t too bothered, he had become bored with Myranda and wanted something new, something exciting. Rhaenys was new and exciting. The plan was for the wedding to take place within a week, they needed the unification before Stannis would strike against them, and Roose knew Stannis wouldn’t be able to fight with the snows coming in. Ramsay spotted Rhaenys walking into the courtyard with her silver swords. She unsheathed them and stopped and then turned to one of the guards. She pointed at him with her sword and made some sort of gesture for four training dummies to be placed around her.

“What is that girl doing?” Roose asked bewildered by her order. Ramsay said nothing and just watched her with intrigue, Roose rolled his eyes at his son and sighed.

“We’ll finish this discussion at dinner and you better put some clothes on for it, walking around like a bloody whore in the cold,” Roose said and walked away muttering words under his breath. Roose had clearly never been in a brothel before, if he thought the male whores walked around like Ramsay did. Ramsay watched as Rhaenys then began to twirl and spin with her swords hitting each dummy with speed and precision, she was tearing them apart with her swords as straw began to get caught in this strange little whirlwind she had created. He walked towards her as she then stopped spinning and watched him walk over, she smirked a little he still hadn’t put any other clothes on.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked him curiously, it felt like he was dressed like this for her benefit and if it was then it was certainly something nice to look at.

“I never feel the cold,” Ramsay told her. Rhaenys chuckled, and walked over towards him. She pointed to one of the guards and gestured for him to give Ramsay his sword and shield.

“I need the practice,” she said. Ramsay took the sword and shield and raised it as Rhaenys readied her swords. She swung for the shield, Ramsay tried to block her but she managed to knock him back. “You don’t use shields much do you?”

“I prefer bows personally, exactly how does dancing fit into this?” he asked her. Dancing Masters were regarded as the best swordsmen but he never understood what the dancing part entailed.

“It’s not dancing like literal dancing about at a ball or feast, it’s a style of footwork and swordplay, the idea to treat the fight against your enemy like a dance, and what is dancing but one person leading the other in choreographed footwork,” she said as he used the sword to block her attack.

“An interesting description, but why did your father send you to Braavos to learn from these masters?” Ramsay asked as Rhaenys knocked the sword out of his hand.

“Besides Hodor there was another stable boy Rodrick, and he didn’t like me for some reason, one day he pushed me too far and I picked up a sword and pointed it at his chest threatening to stab him if he insulted me one more time, father found out and said that it was not ladylike or good swordsmanship to threaten to kill someone over name calling, about a fortnight later he told me I was to go to Braavos to learn with the Dancing Masters and that’s when I ran away to the Dreadfort,” she explained. It was an interesting story to Ramsay, her temper got her sent to Essos and his temper got himself a smack around the head from his mother.

“I wish my mother had sent me to Essos when I lost my temper, she would just beat me around the head instead,” he replied dropping the shield.

“Wow that is…that is dark Ramsay,” Rhaenys commented as she sheathed her swords. “Was that why you were hanging around the road to the Dreadfort then?”

“I liked to walk down that road and look at the Dreadfort from a distance, pretend I was on my way back from a long trip and father would greet me with open arms and say ‘welcome back my son’, pretend I wasn’t a bastard who was resented by his mother for merely existing,” something seemed melancholy in Ramsay’s tone that she noticed. Was that why he tried so hard to impress people?

“You’re starting to make a little more sense to me now,” she muttered. Rhaenys was silent for a moment but then she smiled. “Do you know I was born exactly one year after my brother Robb, we shared a birthday and for years people thought we were twins, it was a good laugh until I left, and for eight years I haven’t seen my family, and now the only family that remains are my sisters and my bastard brother, only one of them I have seen,” she replied.

“Yes, Littlefinger seemed particularly interested in Sansa,” even Ramsay could tell with the way Petyr looked at Sansa that there was some inkling of attraction on his part. “Why does he look at her like that?”

“I do not know, but Sansa trusts him and he must obviously have something planned if he wants you and I to marry, the Game in Essos is very different, without royalty there all nobles use each for power and alliances, you hire assassin’s to kill your enemies, you seduce a noble lady to secure her wealth, you duel your rival over an insult,” Rhaenys told him as they walked through the courtyard.

“What else did you learn in Braavos?” he asked curious to know. She stopped and beckoned him close, he leaned forward and she whispered in his ear.

“I learned how to make love…the free city way,” she began to walk away and Ramsay could feel his body shiver with anticipation, at the thought of the things she could do. Clearly she was no maiden, which begged the question of how experienced she was. Could he find out before the wedding?

 

That evening dinner was being served and Rhaenys walked into the hall to see Walda, Roose, and Ramsay already seated. Ramsay had finally put on more clothes to Roose’s relief. Reek was pouring wine into a goblet for her as she took a seat. There was a few minutes of silence as they ate before Walda Frey began conversation.

“So Lady Rhaenys, how do you feel being back at Winterfell?” she asked kindly.

“I am so glad to be back, it’s a little strange seeing Bolton Banners on the walls but I assume you have the Stark ones stored away until after the wedding,” Rhaenys said as she picked up her goblet to take a sip.

“After the wedding?” Roose asked slightly confused. Rhaenys hesitated for a moment, the Stark Banners would go back up right?

“Yes, once Ramsay and I are married the Stark Banner will go up as well, to show the official unification of our houses,” she said looking at Ramsay for assurance, he nodded slowly and leaned forward a little in his chair, Ramsay assumed this would be the case, how else could the North know that the Starks weren’t all gone. Roose stared at her with more confusion.

“Did Lord Baelish not tell you this?” she asked him putting her goblet back down, what was Littlefinger talking to Roose about when they spoke alone briefly.

“He did not and I don’t know why you assume you will still hold the title of Stark once married, the Bolton’s own Winterfell and when you marry my son you will be Lady Bolton,” Roose told her plainly.

“One banner couldn’t hurt father,” Ramsay interjected.

“Shut up boy, look Rhaenys just because you’re a Stark does not mean you still hold claim to Winterfell, that would have gone to your brothers Bran or Rickon if they were still alive,” Roose said sharply. Rhaenys stood up and gave him a hard stare. She wanted to argue back but it would be too easy to get into a fight with her future father-in-law, instead she closed her eyes, breathed out and then pushed her chair back.

“I am sorry I have cut dinner short my Lord, I just remembered I need to get my swords sharpened,” she said with a fake smile. She walked away quickening her pace as she walked towards the doors. Ramsay had half a mind to run after her, but Roose was staring him down, telling him in his mind to stay where he was. He did not disobey his father and stayed where he was.

 

Outside in the courtyard two guards were having a conversation when they saw Rhaenys storm past them and then stop suddenly.

“Does Fredrick still own the tavern in town?” she asked them.

“Yeah, we go there for drinks,” one of the guards said. Rhaenys nodded and then walked to the stables where her horse was.

“If Ramsay asks, tell him that’s where I am, if Roose asks, make something up,” she said climbing onto her horse and riding out of Winterfell and towards the town.

 

She arrived at the tavern and walked in, there were several patrons drinking in there, all looked very depressed and cold. Fredrick gave her a curious look as she walked over to him. In the corner Brienne of Tarth and Pod were sitting at a table when they saw her walk in.

“You’re that Stark girl, Rhaenys right,” said one of the patrons to Rhaenys. She looked at the man and recognised him as Darrick Ferrell.

“Darrick Ferrell, I haven’t seen you since the time father commissioned twelve pairs of leather gloves from you,” she said.

“Aye, your father was a good man when did you get back, the last I heard you were still in Essos?” he told her.

“I returned a few days ago,” she replied as Fredrick placed a mug of mead in front of Darrick.

“You missed the worst of the war then love, the Bolton’s own Winterfell and an incestuous bastard sits on the Iron Throne,” he said. Brienne stood up and walked over to Rhaenys.

“Lady Rhaenys?” she asked. Rhaenys turned to see Brienne.

“Yes, who are you?” she asked curiously.

“I am Lady Brienne of Tarth, I served under your mother Catelyn Stark, I swore to her that I would find her daughters and I still swear upon it, perhaps if you seek it, I could be an ally to you,” she offered. Rhaenys thought carefully, she had to be sure.

“How can I be sure I can trust you?” she asked Brienne. Brienne then presented her sword to Rhaenys.

“This sword was made from your father’s Valyrian Steel sword, Jaime Lannister presented it to me after I took him back to King’s Landing in exchange for Arya and Sansa at the request of Catelyn, it is named Oathkeeper,” she told her. Rhaenys observed the sword, she didn’t know her father’s sword had been melted down, that was supposed to go to Robb.

“Then you holding the Valyrian Steel that forged my father’s sword must be a sign…alright, but you cannot come to Winterfell…not while Roose is there,” she said to Brienne.

“Then I shall stay here, but take this, light the candle in the tallest tower when you need my help and I will come for you,” she said passing a candle to her. Brienne saw the tavern door open and Ramsay walk through. “I am so sorry to bother you my lady, please accept my humblest apologies,” she said suddenly kneeling before Rhaenys. Rhaenys turned and saw Ramsay standing there, she turned back to Brienne and placed her hand on her shoulder.

“I accept,” was all she said and turned back to Ramsay. “Be honest Ramsay, how mad is Roose?” she asked him.

“He’s not mad, just very disappointed,” he replied with a pleasant smile. She wondered if he had overheard from outside. Everyone had been watching them, watching them agree to this alliance.

“Then take me home Ramsay,” she said walking over to him, she pulled him into a brief hug, her arms going under his cloak.

“Of course my lady,” he said feeling her slip the candle into his satchel.

“Thank you,” Rhaenys said exiting the tavern. He looked at Brienne and walked over to her, she stood up and he noticed how tall she was. But he had seen Rhaenys talking to her through the window and saw the candle passed to her as soon as he walked in and knew she had given it to him. Rhaenys had an endgame, one that might match his, one that might require this woman’s help.

“I have heard that Stannis will be mounting his offense within a fortnight…just something to keep in mind…should we need your assistance,” he told Brienne. Brienne gave him a hard stare, she was unsure if should trust this bastard even if he was giving her a valuable piece of information.

“Make sure that candle gets lit,” she warned him as he walked out of the tavern. Oh the candle shall be lit, Ramsay thought as he left.


	6. Breaking The Cross

Rhaenys and Ramsay rode back to Winterfell to be greeted by Roose in the courtyard who looked severely disappointed. What followed was a lecture on how she should act like a Stark and accept the fact that her banner no longer represents Winterfell. She didn’t argue back, she wanted to argue back, punch him in his smug face and tell him to go fuck himself, instead she resigned to her room before whispering for Ramsay to join her. Inside her room Reek was finishing up polishing the looking glass when she entered.

“Evening my lady, the guards said you went for a walk, is that true?” he asked her.

“In a way, Reek if I’m going to have control over Winterfell I need allies, so far I have you, and someone from the town, I just have to figure out how to win Ramsay over,” she replied as she took off her boots.

“Win him over?” Reek asked curiously turning to her. He still look slightly terrified, but a little more relaxed.

“Yes, win him over, turn him against Roose, why should Roose care about him if he’s got a trueborn child on the way, and that child will be the next heir regardless, he’s only using Ramsay as a holding place until baby Bolton arrives,” Rhaenys replied. She knew how this would play out in the Braavosi game, she’d seduce Roose and then murder him, a tactic she had used before, but it wasn’t that simple in Westeros, the Bolton’s had the support of King Tommen and half the Northern Houses. And if Stannis was preparing for battle against the Bolton House…what would Littlefinger do? Rhaenys thought to herself. Littlefinger needed her to marry Ramsay and have a Stark inside Winterfell so he could seize the castle, probably after this battle against Stannis.

“I need to turn Ramsay against Roose but how?” she asked herself. Reek shrugged and went back to polishing the looking glass. She heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” Ramsay entered to see Reek polishing the glass and Rhaenys sitting on her bed cross-legged and barefoot.

“Reek, if you polish that any harder you’ll break it, now off with you, I want to speak with my future wife,” Ramsay ordered. Reek nodded and stood up, bowed to Rhaenys and then to Ramsay and then left. She found it odd that Reek was scared of him, Theon was certainly gone and there was very little chance of him coming back.

“Theon’s changed since he lost his cock, he’s like a really energetic dog who got fixed and now terrified of everything,” she commented.

“Precisely my intention, he did after all take the castle from your family…and then I took it from him,” Ramsay told her. He walked over to the bed and Rhaenys looked at him. She had an idea in her mind, remembering what Emilio taught her, but could she apply it a different way, could she make him fall in love with her?

“Oh aren’t you noble, nobler than your father, you would have let me keep one banner up,” she said. Ramsay chuckled as he sat on the bed. “Besides, I don’t think Roose likes me very much, you heard what he said ‘stop acting like a child and start acting like the grown-up you are’ just because Domeric was a shut in and raising him was easy because all he did was read and play the goddamn flute,” she said, her tone strong with anger against Roose. And that fucking flute, Domeric wasn’t even good at it, the notes would come out pitchy and squeaky. He tried to play her a song once and it almost deafened her.

“Oh sweet summer child, how little you know of my father,” Ramsay said to her.

“I was born in the winter,” she told him. There went Ramsay’s point.

“Oh…I guess you’d be a sweet winter child then,” he said. Rhaenys laughed and looked at him, and then she had an idea. Time to find the Wolf amongst the Flayed Men, she thought to herself. She crawled across the bed and sat beside him.

“Question, how much do you respect your father?” she asked him curiously. Confused by the question Ramsay looked at her wondering why she would ask him this.

“I respect him enough,” he said slowly.

“Enough to betray him, enough to turn against him and maybe…take Winterfell for yourself?” she asked. Ramsay turned his whole body towards her.

“Why do you ask, why would the little Stark Wolf be interested in knowing that?” he asked her.

“I’m just curious, curious why a bastard would respect a man who denied his existence for twenty three years, I get it though, Jon still respected mother even if she resented him,” she said to him. Ramsay smiled and started to laugh.

“Oh…you are a clever girl, now I have a question for you, why would you come back to Winterfell with the proposition of marriage, to a man you barely know?” he asked her.

“It wasn’t me making the proposition, it was Littlefinger he’s the one with his eye on Winterfell, I’m just his way in, he needed a pawn in the game he’s playing and he chose me,” Rhaenys told him.

“So why send you, why not your sister?” Ramsay asked. Rhaenys laughed and looked away from him.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at her, he wouldn’t let you taint her with your seed, as for me well…I’m the only Stark left with a real claim to Winterfell,” she said.

“And how true is that claim?” he asked her curiously. Rhaenys smiled and then with a sudden move, grabbed him and pushed him down on the bed, she climbed over him, trapping him between her legs.

“Let me show you,” was all she said before leaning down and kissing him. Ramsay gripped her waist, he was tempted to pull her closer, to rip her clothes off, but he resisted. This kiss was good, it was exciting but there was something else to it. Something more but he wasn’t sure what it was. Rhaenys felt the same, she wanted to make him fall like the Masters taught her, but the way their tongues moved around each other, something else was dancing in that kiss. She stopped kissing him and looked down at him, down at those blue eyes of his.

“Forgive me my Lord,” she whispered before climbing off him. Ramsay sat up, he was reeling from the kiss but he knew he should go. Leave her to sleep and him to finish what she had started for him.

“Goodnight my lady, sleep well,” he said. He got up to leave but then paused for a moment remembering the candle in his pocket. “Oh yes I almost forgot, you’re going to need this,” he giving her the candle.

“Oh yes, thank you,” she said.

“Father’s planning to attack Stannis soon, the snows will give us the advantage,” he told her before leaving. That he gave her the candle proved they were on the same page. Petyr called Ramsay a beast in human skin, perhaps he was only half right in that sense.


	7. Ramsay’s Letter

Ramsay returned to his room where he saw Myranda waiting for him. Normally seeing her would fill him with a slight joy, but now looking at her, he seemed annoyed by her presence.

“What do you want?” he asked her.

“I thought maybe we could have some fun,” she said with a smile. Fun, was that all she cared about, fun, sex.

“I don’t feel like having fun…where is Reek, just because I said he could go does not give him the right to disappear, find him for me,” he said not looking at her.

“But Ramsay-,” Myranda began.

“Now!” Ramsay ordered sharply. Myranda stood and left the room, she was angry, probably jealous but he didn’t care. He had to know what Rhaenys was planning, what Littlefinger was planning and what his own father was planning. He needed to be sure that she would give him Winterfell. Ramsay knew Rhaenys wouldn’t submit to him, not after the way she kissed him and what he had learned about her, she would kill him without regret. But what if they could both rule Winterfell she had the claim that challenged Roose even if he denied it. He then remembered that Jon was now Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, he knew with certainty that because of the issues with the Wildling’s that Roose would wage war against the Crows without hesitation, after all they had been supporting Stannis as well by allowing him to assemble his army at Castle Black, but what if he could gain Jon’s alliance personally. If Jon knew his sister was back home then perhaps Ramsay could gain an ally for himself. He went to his desk and began to compose a letter.

_Lord Commander Snow_

_I am writing to you to tell you that your sister Rhaenys Stark has returned from Braavos and is now in Winterfell. She was brought to us by Lord Baelish of the Eyrie to propose an alliance through marriage to myself. Unfortunately marriage alone will not bring back the Stark banners, my father has seen to that. I am offering a chance for the two of us to become allies in a cause to return the North to its former glory. You know what my father did. He betrayed the King of the North, your brother, at the Frey wedding and holds your home as his own, I have begun to develop a plan to take Winterfell from him, but to do so will mean waging war against my father and for that I need your help. Within a week I will be married to your sister and within a fortnight my father will mount his attack against Stannis, on the time of that battle Rhaenys and I will make for Castle Black. If Stannis does not weaken the Bolton forces then other measures will have to be taken to ensure that Roose does not attack the Wall next._

_You and I are not that different Jon Snow._

_Ramsay Bolton_

Ramsay finished the letter and sealed it with the Bolton crest. Reek wandered in slightly worried he was going to get another beating.

“You called for me my Lord,” he said. Ramsay stood up from his desk and handed the letter to Reek.

“Find a Raven, this has to go to Jon Snow at the Nights Watch, do you understand me?” Ramsay asked him. Reek nodded frantically.

“Of course my Lord, I shall go right away,” he said leaving with the letter. All Ramsay had to do now was wait, either for a response from Jon or a move from Rhaenys.

 

Reek walked up towards the Rookery where the remainder of the Winterfell Ravens were kept, Ramsay had never trusted him with a letter before, it must have been important then if he told Reek to find a Raven, suddenly he was shoved aside by Myranda who had been waiting at the foot of the steps that led to the Rookery.

“And what are we doing little Reek the freak?” she asked spying the letter in his hands.

“Lord Ramsay asked me to send a letter for him,” he told her nervously. Ramsay might have mutilated him, beat him and broken him down, but at least he could see the monster within Ramsay and had learned to hide his fear of him. With Myranda, he could not hide how scared he was of her. Myranda snatched the letter out of his hands and opened it.

“Well isn’t this interesting, he intends to run for the wall with that little Wolf bitch, does he not love me anymore Reek, am I boring him?” she asked. What could Reek say to that? He didn’t know how Ramsay felt towards her as of late, he never spoke about her.

“I don’t know miss,” he said with hesitation. She then slapped him hard and walked away with the letter. She could give the letter to Roose and watch him beat his son into submission, or destroy it and pretend that it had been sent. Yes that would be ideal, without a response it could look as if Lord Snow ignored his offer for an alliance. She took the letter and burned it in the main hall fireplace and she saw Roose enter with Walda.

“Lord Bolton, a moment of your time please,” she said walking over to him as the letter curled up amongst the flames and Ramsay’s offer was destroyed.

“Is there something wrong with the hounds Myranda?” Roose asked her.

“Oh no, they’re fine, sleeping like babies, no actually I want to talk to you about your son, you see I overheard him talking to Lady Rhaenys and…I think they might be planning something,” she said with a smile that could cut glass.

“What kind of plan?” Roose asked suspiciously.

“Well I don’t know but you should ask Ramsay if he’s spoken with the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch recently, he is after all allied with Stannis and…well we wouldn’t want Stannis to siege the castle now would we,” Myranda said before she left the two of them. She smiled as she walked away. “Take my Ramsay will you, I’ll see you dead Wolf,” she mumbled to herself as she returned to her own room for the night.

 

The rest of the week leading up to the wedding was a peculiar one, both for Ramsay and Rhaenys. Roose confronted Ramsay the next morning about talking with Jon and when he denied it, Roose eyed him suspiciously and slapped him as a warning. Rhaenys found Myranda following her, if not to the Weirwood to pray then it was in the kitchens or out in the courtyard when she was practicing with two of the guards, Kenneth and Grendel. Ramsay put it down to Myranda being jealous that he had tossed her aside like an old cloth and was more focused on Rhaenys and their wedding. Twice Ramsay went into the town to meet Brienne, the first time he told her about the letter to Jon and the second time was to see if any news of Littlefinger had reached the town, it had. Sansa was in Runestone, but Petyr had gone back to King’s Landing, what for Brienne didn’t know, but it was enough to know that Petyr had placed his stakes in the Game against Roose.

 

The evening of the wedding arrived and it was snowing. Winter wasn’t here but the flakes told Rhaenys that it would be at least four more weeks until the possibility of a White Raven would arrive. As she lay in her bath waiting for Reek to finish up the hem of the skirt on her dress, she wondered if Reek remembered their childhood together.

“Reek, I have a question,” Rhaenys said as she looked up at the ceiling.

“Yes my lady?” Reek said.

“Do you remember the time we locked Robb in the crypt?” she asked him. Reek was quiet for a moment and then nodded.

“I do my lady, he did not appreciate it very much,” he replied. Rhaenys chuckled and then got out of the bath. She had no problem being unclothed around Reek, he didn’t have a cock after all and was afraid to touch people.

“Well, at least you remembered something,” she said as she dried herself off. Reek carefully finished up the last stitch and fix the thread in place so it wouldn’t come off. He stood up with the finished dress and showed it to her.

“Will it do, I used the one I found in the box over there,” he told her. Rhaenys gasped as she realised whose dress that was.

“Mother’s wedding dress, she showed this to me right before I met Domeric for the first time,” she said taking the dress from Reek. She got changed into the dress and had Reek do the back up. “How do I look?”

“Just like your mother,” Reek said feeling a strong sense of sadness in his chest. Catelyn had been so kind and nurturing towards him, and he betrayed her by taking Winterfell from her boys. Why did he do it? “We should get going, they’ll be waiting by the Weirwood,” he informed her. Rhaenys nodded and together they both left to go to the Weirwood tree. This is it, I’m going to be a Bolton, Rhaenys thought as she saw the snow covered ground and flakes falling from the air.


	8. A Bolton She Became

In the Godswood Ramsay watched Rhaenys approach him, he gasped a little at the sight of her as Reek escorted her through the snow. She was beautiful, even more so than when he first saw her. He smiled when she approached to stand beside him, and she smiled back, it wasn’t forced, it was a genuine smile of happiness, perhaps not love, a week is not enough time to fall in love according to most people.

“Who comes before the Old Gods tonight?” Roose asked as the ceremony beneath the Weirwood began.

“Rhaenys, of the House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” Reek replied. Ramsay stepped forward before Roose.

“Ramsay, of House Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort and Winterfell. Who gives her?”

“Theon, of House Greyjoy, who was…who was her father’s ward.”

“Lady Rhaenys, do you take this man?” Roose asked Rhaenys. There was almost a hint of sternness in his eyes as she stepped forward and took Ramsay’s hand.

“I take this man…under the eyes of the Gods, I give myself to you,” Rhaenys said. Ramsay smiled and approached to kiss her to seal their vows. Much like the last kiss, Ramsay could feel something more in there, more than just a sense of attraction.

“Under the eyes of the Gods, two souls have been united tonight, may your love live as long as the Old Gods watch over us,” Roose declared ending the ceremony. Together Ramsay and Rhaenys walked back to the castle in silence as the rest of the Bolton House followed on behind them. Roose and Walda retired to their room and Ramsay allowed Reek to stay in his room, as Ramsay no longer had need of it. Surprised by this Reek wanted to hug Ramsay but knew that would be inappropriate and so bowed instead before leaving.

 

Inside her room Rhaenys took off the fur collar and threw it onto the floor whilst Ramsay carefully removed his cape and laid it on the chair by the dressing table.

“How do you feel wife?” Ramsay asked her as she kicked off her heels and walked over to the lit fire.

“That I’m better off out of those heels, how do you feel husband?” she asked as she glanced at the flames.

“Still happy to be a Bolton, and eager to begin our married life,” Ramsay replied. Rhaenys laughed and walked back to the bed, Ramsay approached her and she kissed him again. The kiss in the Godswood had made her realise that she shouldn’t force him to fall because it was happening already. And yet she herself could feel the world crumbling under her feet when she kissed him. She had never really known true love, her love for Dorian was nothing but a close friendship paired with paid sex, it never went further than that.

“I want to look upon your face,” she whispered to Ramsay, better than having him stare at the scar on her back with her face buried in the furs on their bed. But also she wanted to look at him, she liked looking at him. Ramsay ran his hands up her back and found the hooks that held the dress together.

“Then you shall,” Ramsay said before he ripped the hooks apart. Slowly he pulled the dress off of her until it lay in heap at her feet and Rhaenys began to undress him. She had seen half his body, his slightly noticeable muscles on his stomach, and the noticeable ones in his arms from his archery. She then stopped and climbed onto the bed waiting for Ramsay to take off his trousers and join her. He did so and she smirked a little at his cock. Well done, she thought as he crawled onto the bed waiting for her to make a move.

“You seem happy with what you see,” he said to her as she leaned forward towards him.

“I am happy, now…come here Bolton,” she said before kissing him. She wrapped her arms around his waist pulling her to him lying back on the bed so the furs warmed her back. He was warm already, but he wasn’t aching to get inside her just yet. Instead he just kissed her, letting his hands feel her body as he did. Between her legs was a nice wet sensation that he had been wanting since he saw her. He positioned himself between her legs and then suddenly she grabbed his hardened cock. Her hands were soft, tricky things that began to stroke him before she finally guided him into her and her breath was caught for a moment before she relaxed and began to move her hips, her hands moved to his back. His own hands tangled up in her hair, their kisses becoming sloppy and out of sync before she stopped and rolled him onto his back and she was on top of him.

“Rhaenys-,” he breathed before she stopped him with a kiss.

“Oh Ramsay,” she whispered with a smile as she began to move hips again slowly, enough to keep teasing him. But it was good teasing, teasing that he wanted more of. Suddenly she stopped and looked around the room.

“What?” he asked her confused.

“Nothing, I thought I heard something,” she said before kissing him again and going back to moving her hips with his, nothing was going to spoil this moment for her. As she began to move her hips faster, he started to thrust faster, their bodies starting to glisten with sweat and get sticky from the heat they had created. Ramsay then let out a noise that was halfway between a cry of ‘oh god’ and getting punched in the gut as she felt his seed spill into her. She slowed down and then came to a stop feeling the sensation of him within her…and then she started to laugh.

“What?” he asked her between breaths.

“What was that sound you made?” she asked him as she leaned up still straddling his waist, his cock still inside her.

“You didn’t like it?” he asked leaning up.

“No, it’s just…never have I made a man make that sound before, they all make some kind of warrior cry to show how tough they are,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Perhaps I’ll do that next time,” he said before giving her a long and fairly tender kiss. They stayed in that moment before she finally got off of him, and together they lay under the bed covers wrapped up in each other before they finally fell asleep.

 

When dawn came Ramsay was the first to awake. Rhaenys was sleeping beside him, she was on her side facing away from him and he got a look at the cross on her back. He traced it with his fingertips. Her skin was pale but the cross was pink and stood out, it was jaggy on the edges and he could see from how the scar looked how those two slavers had cut her. He got up out of bed and walked over to the window, no one was outside and the snow had left a new layer untouched by anyone. Perhaps a walk was needed. Ramsay got dressed back into his clothes and put on his cloak. He gave Rhaenys one last look before he closed the door behind him and went outside into the snow.

 

Outside, Ramsay went to the stable and let out his horse, appropriately named Dread after the Dreadfort. He climbed onto Dread and he rode out of Winterfell and down the road into Winter Town where he saw that more northmen had arrived. Winter would soon be approaching then if they were arriving down from the mountain regions. Ramsay left Dread by the stable outside the Smoking Log and walked inside.

 

Inside Pod and Brienne were sitting eating bread and meat at a table and Fredrick preparing a mug of ale for a customer, he looked and saw Ramsay approach but was not afraid, he still remember Ramsay as the child who wanted to play Bolton.

“Lord Ramsay, how are you this fine morning?” Fredrick asked him.

“Very well Fredrick, has any news from the Wall reached you?” Ramsay asked as Brienne watched him from her table.

“Only that thousands of Wildlings are now heading for Castle Black, rumour has it that White Walkers attacked Hardhome, and Mance Rayder is dead,” Fredrick relayed to him. Ramsay gasped a little, Mance was dead, he was certain that Stannis would have kept him prisoner to try and gather more soldiers.

“The King-Beyond-The-Wall, I’d always wanted to meet a Wildling who could unite the savages together,” Ramsay commented.

“Aye, you just might lad, Lord Commander Snow helped those Wildlings escape, he even has a giant with him, anyone who could unite the Wildlings like that…well, he might be the next King-Beyond-The-Wall,” Fredrick said. While disappointed that Jon hadn’t replied to his letter, he was at least glad the bastard was still alive.

“Well it wasn’t the news I was expecting but thanks anyway, I must get back to Winterfell, my wife is waiting for me,” Ramsay said pushing a gold coin towards Fredrick.

“Ah yes we all heard the news about yours and Lady Stark’s marriage, may the Gods watch over you both,” Fredrick said taking the coin. Ramsay smiled graciously and turned to see Brienne staring at him intensely. He walked over to them and she said put her fork down.

“No letter from Jon Snow then,” Brienne said.

“No, but I have a job for you, visit my dear sister-in-law Sansa and tell her…tell her we hope to see her very soon,” he told her before walking away.

“Did you hurt her?” Brienne demanded standing up, Ramsay stopped and turned around.

“Excuse me?” he asked puzzled.

“Did you hurt Lady Rhaenys?” she asked him again. Ramsay started to laugh at the question.

“You are funny Brienne of Tarth…but I’m not a monster,” he said his eyes growing dark at the word monster and he turned and left the tavern. It did not answer her question and she was doubting Ramsay, doubting his honesty, had he really wrote to Jon, was he secretly conspiring to attack the Wall? Brienne didn’t know his motivation and it aggravated her immensely.


	9. Worse Than A Flayed Man

When Ramsay returned to Winterfell, Rhaenys was still in bed asleep. As he entered their room, he shut the door and she opened her eyes to see him.

“Where did you go?” she asked sitting up and running her hand through her hair.

“Winter Town for news, Mance Rayder is dead and your brother is bringing thousands of Wildlings down to Castle Black, for a traitor bastard, to the Wall and the entire Seven Kingdoms, he’s surprisingly…charismatic, from what I hear,” he said sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Last time I saw Jon, mother yelled at him when he asked if he could sit at the high table,” Rhaenys commented.

“You’ve been gone far too long Rhae,” he said before kissing her softly.

“And now I’m finally home, for a marriage that was arranged it seems to be going quite well,” she replied. “Now I would love to stay in bed with you some more but we can’t, I have to get my swords sharpened.” Rhaenys climbed out of bed and proceeded to change into some clothes she had brought back from Braavos, nothing feminine Ramsay had noticed. Soon as she was dressed she picked up her two swords and gave Ramsay a long kiss.

“I was good to you last night, tonight I want you to be good to me,” she muttered before leaving him.

 

As Rhaenys walked through the castle down towards the armoury where, hopefully, Brayden was still working, she saw Myranda approaching her.

“Enjoy your wedding night?” she asked in a cold voice. Rhaenys laughed a little at the obvious jealousy in her voice.

“You ask me like it’s a trick question,” she replied. Myranda stopped in front of Rhaenys blocking her way.

“Oh he’ll get bored of you, and when he does, he’ll come back to me, he always comes back to me, like a faithful hound,” Myranda said with a sinister look. Rhaenys merely smiled at Myranda before grabbing her by her hair and shoving her against the wall and held one of her swords against her neck.

“Do you really want to cross me Myranda, you know Littlefinger told me that I would have a lot in common with my husband, and I do. There’s only one key difference though…I’m much worse than Ramsay could ever be, he might be beast in human skin who flays for the fun of it but me…I’m a Wolf masquerading as an innocent girl who’s killed more men than Ramsay, and I could kill you too...you best remember that before you try and fuck with me,” Rhaenys let go of Myranda and walked away with a smile.

 

Outside in the courtyard Walda Frey was taking a walk when she saw Rhaenys, she liked the young Stark.

“Good morning Rhaenys, you look radiant today,” she said politely as she approached. Rhaenys beamed and hugged her new mother-in-law.

“I am well Lady Frey, how goes the little one?” she asked with a gesture towards Walda’s belly.

“The Maester says he’s feeling healthy, it’ll be a few more weeks until his birth though, I was hoping to discuss a name with Roose, we still haven’t settled on one,” Walda replied as they began to walk.

“Have you considered something that breaks tradition, I know Lord Frey would probably want another Walder to carry on the name, but I think you do something different,” Rhaenys said.

“What would you recommend, if things go well you might be having a Bolton heir of your own soon.”

“If it were my son I would name him after an honourable man, one who loved the North, loved his King and best friend, loved the Old Gods, if it were my son I would name him Eddard after my father,” Rhaenys said. Walda gasped and smiled.

“Oh Eddard it is such a wonderful name, little Eddard Bolton,” Walda said welling up a little.

“Well why don’t you take the name, why don’t you give the world the Eddard Bolton we deserve, you would make a fine mother,” Rhaenys said.

“Thank you, I think I’ll surprise Roose with the name when Eddard is born, oh it’ll be marvellous,” Walda said as she walked away. Rhaenys smiled, what a perfect way to get under Roose’s skin to give him a son named after a man he betrayed in death. Oh she knew what Roose did, murdering her brother Robb at the Red Wedding. She was not going to forgive so easily, and her revenge didn’t need blood to be shed.

 

Rhaenys left her swords with the new blacksmith, Greg, who had come from the Dreadfort, Brayden was still there as well after swearing loyalty to the Bolton banner. Silver wasn’t that hard to sharpen but it was stopping the shine from dulling that was tricky. Perhaps she should have taken the Valyrian Steel when she was offered it. She could see Myranda watching her from across the courtyard with a mean glare, she saw Ramsay approaching and knew Myranda would try and coax him away from her, jealousy was an evil monster.

“Got any spare swords I can practice with?” Rhaenys asked Greg.

“Yeah, couple over there,” he replied pointing to some swords that were hung up. She grinned and took the swords and got the dummies set up again. Kenneth and Grendel stood by to watch her and give any advice for her as they were respected soldiers in the army. Rhaenys held the swords up and looked at Myranda with a sinister grin and then spun around and sliced the head of one of the dummies clean off. Ramsay had also been watching her, impressed by the way she decapitated the dummy. Rhaenys kicked the head towards Myranda as a warning and began to practice on the other dummies, slashing into them sending straw everywhere.

“Good footwork, where were you when your brother was alive?” Grendel asked her.

“The night of my brother’s death I was…ah yes I was cutting the belly of a Slave Master open, stealing the gold ring he had swallowed and leaving his body as a message to not fuck with the Yunkai, that’s the problem with Essos nobility too many murders,” Rhaenys replied stabbing the dummy.

“So you’re like…worse than Ramsay,” Kenneth said slightly disturbed by her graphic description. Rhaenys stopped and smiled at that comment.

“Yes, I guess I am, who would have thought, a Stark that’s worse than a Bolton,” she said. “Mind you once Daenerys freed the Yunkai salves, jobs there started to get thin, oh she had good intentions, but Braavosi assassins have to work all over Essos to keep the coin flowing towards the guild, I’m lucky I have a friend in the Faceless Men.”

“The Faceless Men, they really exist?” Grendel asked in awe.

“Oh yes, one of them saved my life, a dear friend, I knew him as Jaquen, and he knew my sister,” Rhaenys replied.

“He knew Lady Sansa?” Kenneth said confused.

“No, Arya, he did a favour for her because she took three men reserved for the Faceless God, I saw her briefly before I left…at least I think I did,” she never knew if that was Arya she had seen stepping off the boat as she boarded it. 

“The Faceless Men, how the Free Cities must act with them hiding in the shadows,” Grendel said in half a daydream.

“The Faceless God demands faces, mostly from those who deserve it,” Rhaenys said wondering if the God would be satisfied with Roose Bolton’s face. Ramsay walked over to them and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Entertaining them with stories of the Free Cities are we?” he asked her.

“She was telling us about the Faceless Men,” Grendel said with a grin.

“It must be fascinating, tell me what would they think of flaying?” he asked Rhaenys with a smile, his teeth looked oddly sharp.

“So long as you actually give them the face, I’m sure they don’t mind,” she replied.

“You hear that boys, if you’re not careful, you might lose your faces, now away with you both, I have to talk with my wife on some urgent business,” he said leading her away from Kenneth and Grendel. Myranda watched them as they went back into the castle. Ramsay led her back to their room so that they could talk.

“What do you need to discuss, your father hasn’t planned to attack the Wall has he?” she asked with slight sarcasm. He laughed and went to a drawer and pulled out the candle from Brienne.

“I spoke with that Lady Brienne, I told her to go visit your sister, let her know how you’re doing and all,” he told her.

“So why show me the candle she gave me?” she asked him. He placed the candle in her hands and looked directly into her eyes.

“We have a week until my father plans to attack Stannis, on the morning of the battle after he and the forces leave, you and I will meet on the battlements, there is a side which is piling up with snow, enough to break our fall, no one will see us leave and Reek will have prepared horses for us,” he explained.

“Is Reek coming too?”

“Only until the road diverts, Reek is going back to the Iron Islands, what he does when he returns is up for him to decide, you have to light the candle at dawn, that way Brienne will be able to meet us at Winterfell, after that we ride to Castle Black, Gods only hope that your brother got my letter,” Ramsay said to her.

“You wrote him?”

“To let him know you were here, your sister should be bound for the Wall also after the battle, we meet there and we begin a plan.”

“What sort of plan?”

“To usurp my father and take Winterfell for ourselves.”

“Are you sure that’s wise Ramsay?” Rhaenys asked unsure of the motive.

“My father murdered your brother, his wife and their unborn child in cold blood, Walder Frey slaughtered your mother under the guise of welcoming them into his home for a wedding, don’t you want justice?” Ramsay asked her.

“Of course I do, but you and I want Roose dead for different reasons, I want him dead to honour my family, you want his titles and Winterfell, not that I can blame you, you’ll be Lord if he’s dead and Winterfell will be rightfully ours,” Rhaenys replied.

“The perfect solution, I will also get to be Warden of the North as well, a little bonus I guess,” Ramsay added with a smile.

“Alright then, at the dawn of the battle I light the candle,” Rhaenys agreed. Ramsay kissed her, happy with the knowledge that his plan would come to fruition.

“I will relay the message,” he told her and left the room. Rhaenys bit her lip watching her husband leave. Now just one question remained, which of them would be the one to kill Roose?


End file.
